Speculative Fiction—an all-encompassing genre created to describe stories of science fiction, fantasy, alternate history, and other stories that have an element of “What if...” in them. A story in speculative fiction is one that adds an element of the unreal, or asks, what would become of our society if history took a different direction at some important event? Fiction with a little something extra thrown in.—William D. Richards

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Sunday, June 11, 2017

Root of the Spark (Wild Seed #1) by Michele Fogal

On offer until June 15

Sub-genre: Science Fiction, Romance, LGBT

About Root of the Spark:

Dell has an unexpected spark that masculine and feminine energies create when swirled and fused inside a single person. But will this be enough to stop the age-old tide of fear and violence as it rises again?

Born in the midst of the oldest human war, the war of the sexes, Dell is the first true hermaphrodite on the planet of Ameliaura. Dell has used the anonymity of the Fatherlander cities to survive, and the tight community of the Motherlander villages to manage, but reaching maturity means that neither of those are enough to thrive on anymore. After a vicious attack, and an unexpected love interest, Dell must step into the light to fight for a real home.

Warning: this book contains a child who is actually an ancient dragon made of fungus, a lovely villain imprisoned inside the creature’s body, a hasty clan gathering in the collective subconscious, a hermaphrodite orphanage on the brink, and some very naughty acts on a staircase.

Excerpt:

I was huffing and slugging the walls until I fell to my knees, and then I
figured it was just as good to beat the hell out of the floor since it
was all clearly the same shit. Its body. The whole thing was its
lord-forgotten body. With me just like a tiny maggot inside a fart
bubble in its gut. I started to shake.

It could probably turn
this whole room into that harder stuff if it wanted. It could probably
collapse the walls and crush me just like the bug I was. I put something
extra into the next wallop I laid onto the floor when I thought of
that.

“Come on, you son of a whore! Just get it over with. Come
and crush me up like a worm. I’d rather die now than sit here waiting
for whatever your sick, fat brain is thinking up for me.”

I
flopped out flat and rolled to look at the ceiling. There it was,
glowing away like its own little sun was in behind a thin blanket of
that stuff. What could I possibly do that would make the hugest beast
sit up and pay me any kind of notice? Even if I’d had a knife or a
sword, what good would that have done? A shock stick would have barely
tickled that thing’s tonsils.

It was time to man up to the fact
that not only was I in the plink with no real date for getting out, not
only was there no way out, but I was nothing. I had nothing to fight
with, no strength worth a wit in here. I cried then, like a baby. Or
rather, like a toddler. Any man that’s had kids of his own knows that no
baby ever did crying the justice that a two-year-old can.

I gave
in and let it roll outta me, snot and sobs and all. The red-hot shame
of it was something terrible. I was nothing, and this thing that held
me, it was seeing all of this and would now know not just how weak I
was—which, when you think about it, Acorn must have known before I was
even in here—but that I knew how weak I was and couldn’t keep myself
from admitting it.

How long had it taken to break me? A few
hours? It was pathetic how weak I was, the toughest of the hard-working
guys. I was terrified in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. No booze,
no people. I had to have one or the other. To be alone with myself was
just not…safe.

About Michele Fogal

Story sweeps up the dust of our lives, moistens it with breath, and grows food for the soul. A voracious reader, Fogal can be found gobbling that food like a truffle hunting hog.

She has always felt a sense of kinship with quirky and diverse people. As a bisexual author, writing love stories that explore the rainbow of human experience is both a pleasure and a calling. Her work celebrates the divine nature of diversity, and the sacred, messy work of intimacy.

Michele lives in Vancouver, Canada, with the love of her life, two inspiring children, and an adorable, anxious chiweenie. In her rainy West Coast home, she runs a communications business and keeps her head stubbornly in the clouds.If you’d like to know when Michele releases new books, bonus content, book club questions, and sneak peeks, you can sign up for her newsletter at michelefogal.com. You can also connect with her on social media and nudge her to write more.

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